


regular touch

by icarusinflight



Category: BBC Radio 1 RPF, One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/F, Female Louis Tomlinson, Female Nick Grimshaw, Girl Direction, Non-Famous Louis Tomlinson, Radio Host Nick Grimshaw, cis swap, famous/non-famous, idk what else to tag this with
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-15
Updated: 2019-05-15
Packaged: 2020-03-05 20:43:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18836419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icarusinflight/pseuds/icarusinflight
Summary: Shoes for salePaid £110Looking for £80Will sell for £50 and a good storyorNick makes an impulse shoe purchase, and gets more than she’d bargained for when she puts them up for sale.





	regular touch

**Author's Note:**

  * For [shiftylinguini](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shiftylinguini/gifts).



> For Shiftylinguini.  
> For her birthday which was actually last week but better late than never right?? IT'S THE THOUGHT THAT COUNTS
> 
> This all started, as so many things do, with us talking shit, and then I decided to try and make it for you for your birthday (if a little late). I have spent so much time looking at pictures of shoes and dresses now because of this.
> 
> Thank you to Silv who pulled this into shape. Thank you to Mask for monster editing.
> 
> Based off this viral [post](https://cheezburger.com/7580421/posts-her-gladiator-sandals-for-sale-and-its-description-is-going-viral) about gladiator sandals.  
> Title from [Regular Touch](https://youtu.be/72JLo-r92mc) by Vera Blue which has no relevance to this fic but was one of my inspirational songs and I feel like it kind of fits the vibe of Nick and Louis(if pre-this fic)

 

It had been an impulse purchase.

The shoes were amazing. So amazing. They’d been advertised as _Gladiator Stilettos._ Rose gold with stiletto heels, with a soft leather cage reaching all the way up to the calf. Just perfect for showing off her legs _thank you, Alexa._ And _yes,_ _maybe_ they hadn’t been her size but just because they were a size smaller than her usual size (a size and a half if she’s being honest with herself), but they had been so _perfect,_ and Nick just _had to have them._ The package arrived during work, and she’d been so excited she kept the box next to her for the whole show. Then she’d hurried home, ready to try them on and find the perfect outfit to look _gorgeous_ for a night out at the clubs.

Which would have been perfect, if only the shoes hadn’t been an _absolute disaster._

It took some coaxing, a lot of pulling, and maybe a little bit of sweat — which actually kind of helped to get the shoes on, if not done up.

The zip was still only halfway up, but that was probably as good as it was going to get. Because she’s never one to half arse something, even — or maybe especially — if it’s going horribly, she continues the process with the second shoe, making sure that at least she can see the disaster in its entirety.

It is a disaster. Her toes are hanging off the front, and her calves look like legs of lamb all wrapped up on Masterchef. Appropriately, she feels like she’s roasting, just from the strain of getting the shoes half on. Except there isn’t going to be anything delicious to eat afterwards — just Nick being a mess.

“Nice going, Grimshaw,” she tells the mirror, before throwing herself back on the bed. Pig whines from the ground, but otherwise her dramatic flounce goes entirely unappreciated. She is _so_ unappreciated.

She can’t be arsed pulling the shoes off. She’d been planning to head to the clubs and show off her new shoes — Pixie’s message tone has been going off since before Nick started trying on the shoes. She’s probably trying to organise Nick for the night out — it had been the plan after all, strutting into the club and looking every part the Amazon goddess thank you very much. But that plan has been abandoned along with Nick’s hopes and dreams for the shoes, the half zipped up leather cutting off her circulation and her confidence along with it. There’s no way Nick wants to tackle the clubs for another night of rejection after that failure of epic proportions.

Clubs are all disappointment and sadness these days anyway. She used to love hitting the clubs, out for a night on the pull. But somewhere along the way it lost its allure, and she can’t seem to find the will these days. Nick's been known for her hit and runs, and she's not in the least bit ashamed of that, but lately she's starting to feel like maybe it’s not what she’s after anymore. She wants more, more than just a series of one night stands — she'd like to go on a date.

She can't even think of the last time she actually went on one. The closest thing was the movie premier with the smoking movie reporter who came in for the weekly review, and Nick hadn’t been sure it _was_ a date. She’d ruined the whole evening anyway by confessing _‘I don’t really like movies’_ which had put a quick end to the maybe -possibly-date anyway. It would be nice to go on a date with the potential of more dates. Multiple dates. Dating even. It’s what all the cool kids are doing these days — all the cool kids, all her friends, and basically everyone except _her_.

With an exaggerated sigh that also goes unappreciated, she drags herself off the bed, determined to keep the shoes on, even if they pinch at her heels, her toes, her ankles, her fucking _shins_ (how is that even _possible?_ ). Nick makes it through the walk down the stairs to the kitchen, and pours herself a vodka and orange juice — _it’s called health, Aimee_. By the time she throws herself on the couch she can’t take it anymore, stripping the shoes off and throwing them across the room.

She doesn’t want to think about the blisters she can already feel forming on her feet.

Nick's at least five drinks and half as many episodes of Great British Bake Off into her sulking when she has the idea. It feels like the shoes are mocking her from across the room, a continual reminder of all the things she can’t have. Not even Pig has shown any interest in them, giving the shoes one sniff before turning her back on them with a distinct air of disapproval, smart girl that she is. Nick doesn’t want to look at them anymore, and they’re just reminding her of bad decisions that feel bigger than just a wrong size purchase. She wants them out of her house asap, can’t be arsed with faffing around with returns and all that mess. She’ll sell them.

There’s something cathartic about writing the ad. Nick goes all in, and she knows it’s a bit ridiculous, but as it helps her get her shoe related frustrations out, and as she always tells Pixie — _I’m a performer darling_. She feels proud of the post when she finishes it, and posts it immediately, not wanting to take the time to think (or overthink) it.

She finishes her drink, follows it up with a glass of water and a paracetamol, and then tucks herself into bed, Pig climbing in after her.

“Always happy to share my bed aren’t you Piggie?”

Pig’s tail thump-thumps against the duvet, and she licks at Nick’s hand. Nick tells herself she’s happy enough with what she’s got.

* * *

Nick wakes with a dry mouth and pounding headache. Her phone is flashing with notifications, one from Pixie confessing her love and saying she’ll have to come out next time, and Nick texts a **love u 2 babes** back to her, before swiping over to the marketplace to check those.

 _Louis T: Would you take £50 and a story told in person,_ the message reads _I’m real shit at words but I can tell a sick story ._

There’s another message offering her £70 for the shoes, but the first message intrigues her. Nick loves a story, telling or listening, so it’s a no brainer, really.

 **Sure,** she messages back, **_when and where?_ **

They agree on a time, late enough that Nick doesn’t need to worry about getting out of bed yet, and close to work. She sets her alarm for an hour before it, tucks her feet underneath Pig, and falls back to sleep.

* * *

Nick walks into the cafe only a few minutes late, which is pretty good, really. Her hair is going every which way — bedroom hair, she tries to call it, and it is literally. Not the sort of created bedroom hair that most of the people who pop into the station have, no stylists in sight for her, only a bed and a dog that’s too hard to leave alone in bed.

 **Here,** she sends when she’s waiting in line, taking a look around and trying to spot the someone who looks like _Louis T_ in the cafe, or someone looking around likewise. Everyone is on their phones, just like Nick would be usually.

“Are you Nick?” a voice asks from behind her, and Nick spins on her heels, turning and swinging her bag right into the girl standing in front of her.

“Fuck,” she says, dropping the bag to the ground, shooting her hand out to grab the girl’s arm, an attempt at steadying her, or comforting, or _something_ she’s not really sure. But she did just attack the girl with a bag of shoes, the least she can do is _try_. “Are you okay?”

The girl gives a bark of laughter, high pitched and loud enough that probably everyone is looking at them now. Nick feels a bit mortified, but she’s no stranger to having people look while she’s making a fool of herself — encourages it sometimes even. Better to get them to look at her, then she’s doing it for the crowd, and it’s all worth it for a laugh. But comedy via slight humiliation is not the ideal first impression to make on one of the prettiest girls Nick has seen in, well, ever.

Nick’s not ashamed to admit she can get a little flustered around a pretty girl. _Flattering_ Nick likes to call it. _Idiotic_ Pixie tends to say with a roll of her eyes. Usually, Nick would have a few drinks to help fortify herself, and power on anyway. That’s not an option now, but the part of her brain which is responsible for functioning around pretty girls has already taken off — already had a drink or three and is dancing to _She Wants To Move_ — with no more than a wave and well wishes.

The girl looks about as ready to be here as Nick feels. Long hair hanging messily by her shoulders, and she’s wearing leggings with a pair of boots that Nick can see aren’t even laced up. She looks like she only just dragged herself out of bed. A loose shirt and looser knit hangs off her shoulders, showing off the skin of her shoulders and collarbones. A hint of inked letters that Nick can’t make out, but is already curious about, and okay apparently Nick is a shoulder girl now, good to know.

Nick’s eyes drop from her shoulder, flicking down for just a moment, before she realises what she’s doing and tears her eyes back to the girl’s face. The smirk on the girl’s face suggests Nick’s been caught, and Nick wants to sink right through the floor. She can feel her face heat up, which isn’t flattering in the least, _Christ_ this is already going so well.

She’s going to keep her eyes shoulders and above for the rest of the day

“You are Nick, right?”

“Oh!” The girl had called her Nick before, she remembers now, probably ten seconds ago in actual time, but an eternity ago in _Nick making a fool of herself_ time. “Yes. I am. Nick, that is.”

Her hand’s still on the girls shoulder, awkwardly resting there, and Nick takes it back. Then in a further sign that her brain really has abandoned her, she shoves her hand out, like she’s at a fucking work meeting, and the girl, raises an eyebrow, before taking the offered hand and giving it a shake.

“Louis,” she says, with a twitch of her lips, and finally fucking drops her hand, allowing the awkward moment to end. “Shall we order?”

Nick orders her usual coffee extra strong, and Louis orders tea and a chocolate muffin. She starts picking at the muffin inside the bag as soon as it’s handed to her, while Nick looks at the counter sadly as they move to the side. She might have bought herself something if she’d known Louis was going to be eating. Probably not a muffin though, and definitely not a chocolate muffin. Honestly all the things here look like they’d be terrible for her diet anyway — so she’s probably better off without all of it. She’s got a muesli bar at work waiting for her anyway, but Nick wants what she can’t have — but that’s always been a problem for her.

“So, what about this story, then?” Nick asks, when the silence has dragged on long enough to pass from the usual awkwardness, to the level reserved for blind dates and running into ex’s. “Are you going to tell me a story about a woman turning into a dragon?”

“I could.” Louis turns to look at her, and her eyes seem even more blue when they’re focused on you, Nick hadn’t noticed that before. She has a smudge of chocolate against the corner of her mouth that Nick should tell her about — but if Louis wants her muffin she can damn well put up with the consequences; Nick’s face is entirely muffin free. “But anyone could tell you a story about a dragon really. I’ve got more interesting stories to tell.”

“Oh really?” Nick hadn’t been that bothered about the story previously. It had just seemed like a fun thing, like when she makes her friends send her pictures of their animals if they want to come along as her plus one to the gigs she gets tickets to, but now Nick’s intrigued, and wouldn’t mind getting a chance to look at Louis’ face a little longer. Nick raises an eyebrow, leaning forward with her arms on the table, “What stories have you got to tell?”

“Oh no,” Louis says, with a smirk. “You’re not getting your story yet. I want to try the shoes on first, thanks. I don’t just give out stories for free. Especially not to radio DJ’s.”

It’s not that often that Nick gets recognised, but it does happen, enough that she should probably be getting used to it by now. It’s usually a little bit exciting, but this time she just feels caught out, her face flushing at the attention.

“Right,” she says, and she’s thankfully saved from any further conversation by Louis’ name getting called for the drinks. When Louis has collected her cup she shoos Nick out the door saying something about heading to somewhere a little less crowded.

Somewhere a little less crowded ends up being a park, and Louis takes them straight to the Gazebo, placing the cups on the small concrete table, before taking a seat. Nick slides in on the other side and places the bag on the table. The shoe sized box hanging off the side of the table.

“So these are the shoes,” Nick says, tapping her fingers against the cardboard lid. “There’s nothing wrong with them, I just ordered the wrong size. Tried them on to see if I could fit of course, but the shoe gods were not willing.”

“Lucky for me,” Louis says, placing the muffin on the table by their cups, and taking the box from Nick. “Help yourself.” She waves her hand at the muffin, grabbing the shoes and shifting to sit on the bench sideways, and reaching for her own feet and slipping her shoes off right there.

Nick breaks off a bit of the muffin for herself while Louis sorts the shoes out, doing a little walk around the gazebo once she’s got them done up. In almost a mockery of Nick trussing himself up in them the night before, Louis has done them up over her leggings. Sure, they look a bit silly, but they do wonders for Louis’ arse. Not that Nick is looking, but it’s impossible not to notice. Nick doesn’t feel bitter they hadn’t fitted her, and _definitely_ didn’t make her arse look like that — not at all.

“They’re sick,” Louis says, sitting back down, not bothering to take the shoes off as she swings around to face Nick again. The shoes bump against Nick’s shins, and Nick feels a flash of anger towards them. Stupid shoes which didn’t fit her, and are still causing her pain a day after trying them on, from blisters to bruises on her shins. Nick can’t deny they look good on Louis, but she also can’t help the lingering resentment she has towards — towards _shoes_ for chrissake. Louis crosses her legs, swinging her heeled feet out lazily.

“I’ll take ‘em.” Louis says, interrupting Nick’s thoughts, and dragging her attention from the shoes. She shoots a grin at Nick, and Nick can’t help but smile back — Louis’ cheer is infectious, and it’s hard to stay mad when a pretty girls is smiling at her like that. “They’ll go wicked with the dress I was planning to wear tonight.”

“Cool,” Nick agrees, happier now that she knows the shoes won’t be her problem any longer. “Got big plans then?”

“Hot date plans,” Louis says with a wink, and Nick smiles in response, even if she’s a little disappointed to hear Louis _is_ planning to use them for a date — she’s powerless to a pretty girl sometimes. “First date and want to wow him and all that.”

So she’s straight as well. It’s ridiculous that Nick was even getting her hopes up. This is the thing she does, having dreams about people she barely knows. She’d thought maybe Louis was flirting, but instead she’d just being friendly, and Nick’s fallen victim to that before. She’s practically old hat at it by now.

Nick tries to shake the sadness coming over her with a shake of her head, and plasters the smile back on her face. “Oh, what’s that story, then?”

Louis gives a laugh and shakes her head. “No story. Not yet. Ask again tomorrow.” Nick wonders if she’s just saying that, or if she actually means it. What she would do if Nick actually messaged her tomorrow. “I could tell you a different entertaining date story.”

 _Entertaining_ sounds intriguing, just the sort of thing that Nick loves to hear, or tell herself, and Nick nods.

“Right well, so there was this girl. Woman. She was a bit older than me, and I had like, the biggest crush ever on her,” Louis gives her a smile and a little tip of her head, and Nick nods along. So Louis does swing her way — nice to know even if it is useless — Louis has a date and Nick… Nick does not. “So like, we’d been out at the clubs with friends and I thought I was being cool and funny and I was probably just being loud and embarrassing myself.”

Nick gets crushes almost as often as she gets takeaway coffee, and she’s been there before, dressed to impress and trying all her moves — she’s more than willing to embarrass herself if that’s what it takes — and sometimes it does. But it never seems to matter in the end, still leaves her alone the next morning, with an emotional hangover to match her physical one, and wondering what exactly it is she does that always seems to push people away.

“Still better than trying to pick up with my dance moves though.” Louis says with a smile. Nick nods at that. She’s yet to succeed in picking up someone with dance moves alone. Not for lack of trying, giving it her all, even incorporating the furnishings and table decorations into her routines — they just don’t know good dancing when they see it.

“So when when it came time to leave I offered to walk her home, you know, to make sure she got home safe. Ever the gentleman, me. Except like, I didn’t realise that she lived actual miles away. I had to take off my shoes on the walk, even.” Louis gives a little laugh, running her fingers through her hair to straighten her fringe. “Anyway when we got there, she invited me in — which was what I’d been hoping for. And I guess I got pretty excited about that, ended up tripping over my own feet, and she tried to help, but I went arse over teakettle straight into her hedges. Absolutely wrecked my dress. Which wasn’t actually my dress, it was a friends.”

Louis grimaces, throwing her hands out in a _what can you do_ sort of movement, and Nick nods — she’s no stranger to that, just live and learn and Annie doesn’t let her try on her leggings anymore, it is what it is.

“But on the plus side, she did end up taking me inside. But all we ended up doing was cleaning up, she gave me sticky plaster, and going to bed — not for what you’re thinking mind, just a cuddle. Had a nice cuddle.”

“A cuddle is still nice,” Nick says, she loves a cuddle, at least she can get those often enough, cosying up with her friends, and they’ve all shared beds together at some stage or another. “Did it end up working out for you then?”

“Eh, sort of. We did have some fun. Turned out she only wanted something casual, and when she did, it wasn’t with me.” Louis shrugs, finger reaching up to rearrange her fringe again, even though it’s not moved since the last time she did it only a moment before. “Just a good time Lou I guess.”

And that — that’s rough. Nick’s heart gives a sympathetic twitch, and she thinks about getting up to give Louis a hug. It’s probably too much, they’ve only just met, and it’s not like _they’re_ on the date. Just two not-even-friends, a transactional shoe sale based interaction. Nick might be self aware enough to know she’ll be thinking of Louis in the future, but she’s not optimistic enough to think this is anything more than a chat and exchange of goods.

“What about you, then?” Louis asks, dragging Nick from her thoughts. “Got any good date stories to tell?”

“Don’t go on many dates if I’m being honest,” Nick says, and she hopes it doesn’t come off as bitter as she feels about that.

“That’s a bit shit,” Louis says, breaking off another part of the muffin and shoving it in her face. She doesn’t finish chewing it, and Nick can see the food still stuck in her cheek as she adds, “Sounds like you need to go out with better people.”

It should be gross really, but Nick’s been known to struggle with that herself, forever being told to finish her food before she speaks — it’s just that she’s always wanting to contribute to the conversation, always has words to say, and she’s never been good at waiting.

“Yeah maybe,” Nick says, instead of, _‘what like you?’_ and takes another piece of the muffin to give herself a moment to think. “I could tell you about the last time I went on a date. Managed to piss off my date by saying I don’t like movies.”

“Who doesn’t like movies, honestly?” Louis asks, rolling her eyes, but she sounds fond, not annoyed like the last time. “Doesn’t exactly sounds like a deal breaker though.”

“She was a movie reviewer,” Nick adds.

“Oooh.” Louis leans in, placing her elbows on the table. “Go on Nick-othan.”

“That is _not_ my name,” Nick says, shaking her head. And then she does.

* * *

She can’t stop thinking about Louis.

She barely made it to work in time, running at what _could_ be considered late, but was really still plenty early for her shift _thank you very much_. Besides, she usually stays late after the show to set things up for the next day. It’s not like she was unprepared, just… not as prepared as she could be.

She can’t stop looking at her phone — which isn’t unusual for her, but tonight she’s not on the usual apps. Louis is probably on her date now. Nick hopes it’s going well, except for how she doesn’t. The voice in her head that says _I can’t remember the last time I had that much fun on a not-date_ is also saying _I hope Louis’ night is an absolute disaster._

Nick feels ashamed just at the thought. She’s usually a good friend, wants the best for all her mates really, even if it leaves her alone eating ice cream with no one but Pig and Mary Berry for company. She doesn’t even know if Louis would consider them friends — Nick might be ready to be Louis’ friend after half a dozen messages and a friendly chat that she never wanted to end, but she doesn’t know how Louis feels. It still makes her feel like a shit not-friend, why would Louis even _want_ to be friends with her if she can’t even hope Louis has a nice time on her date.

The guilt tugs at her, twisting her stomach, and as she lines up the next link, she decides to throw a song out to Louis — wish her well on her date, even if there’s probably no chance of her hearing it. Nick’s a fake it till you make it kind of girl, and if you tell the nation then it’s got to be true right?

“Next up we have _Regular Touch_ by Vera Blue,” Nick says, lining the song up. “I’d like to dedicate this song to Louis. I hope she’s having a fun date, and looking killer in those heels, hope they’re lucky for you babe.”

Nick starts the song in, turning her attention back to her phone. She’s not going to look at the message thread with Louis again — she’s _not_ — until an alert pops up for it.

Nick hits the icon with her thumb so fast she almost drops her phone.

 _hot date was a bust_ it says, and there’s a picture attached too; it’s of the shoes, ankles crossed on top of a coffee table. It looks like someone’s living room — the coffee table is covered in all manner of things for one, and she can see a couch and a TV in the background. Definitely not a club, but also not likely to be a cafe either, judging by everything lying around. Louis doesn’t look like she’s dressed for the club either, Nick’s pretty sure she’s wearing trackies, grey ones, hitched up to the knee to show off the full length of the sandals.

Nick feels a flash of happiness at that, followed quickly by guilt

Nick texts back a sad face, a thumbs down, and follows it up with, **Want to talk about it?**

She has to put her phone down to sort out the next link, back announcing the previous song, before lining up the next one. That’ll give her a few minutes at least. She picks her phone up as soon as the song plays in — not missing the glare she’s shot through the glass, but that’s nothing new really.

 _not much to tell,_ Louis’s replied, _turns out he saw ‘bi’ on my profile and thought i might be up for a threesome_

 **What a dick,** Nick replies again, **the shoes were totally wasted on him**

 _a complete waste !_ Louis texts back _didn’t get to put them to use at all_

 **I’m getting off soon,** she texts back, before she can think better of it, **if you wanted to come back out and put the heels to use**

Nick’s heart jumps into her throat, and she has to put her phone face down, close her eyes and count out her breaths to stop from giving herself a minor asthma attack. She only opens her eyes when she hears the song coming to an end, announcing it quickly — so very unlike her — and she holds her breath as she checks her phone again.

 _alight nick-tropolis_ . _where are you thinking ?_

Nick grins at the phone, and she’s about three seconds from getting yelled at, but she could almost punch the air for joy. She shoots finger guns across to the producers booth, getting an eye roll in return. She texts Louis back quickly, naming a bar close enough to walk to from the studio, tells Louis to meet her there half an hour after her shift finishes.

 _you better buy me a drink,_ Louis messages back and Nick replies with a thumbs up and a martini glass, hoping she’ll get the message, and then she tucks her phone away in her pocket.

* * *

The club is thumping when Nick gets in. She’s not really dressed for a club, in her skinnies and a loose blouse buttoned low. Certainly not dressed like the rest of the club seems to be, short skirts and high heels. Any other night that would probably be Nick too, but any other night she wouldn’t have the opportunity to buy Louis a drink, so the rest of the club can suck it.

Nick checks her phone as she makes her way to the bar — there’s not been anymore messages from Louis after Nick sent the last one. She’s not worried, except that she kind of is, her stomach twisting, and her brain reminding her that it would be just typical for Nick’s luck with ladies to have Louis ditch her.

It’s fine. It’s not like she couldn’t have a drink and have a nice night anyway.

Nick’s still trying to make her way to the front of the line when someone bumps into her with force, making her stumble forward into the people in front of her. She raises her hands in the standard _sorry mate_ gesture when they turn around to glare at Nick. Before she can turn around to try and sort the person out, a body bumps up against her back, and a pair of hands cover her eyes.

“Guess who.” The words are half yelled, even though the lips are close enough to brush against her neck, and Nick can’t help the shiver that runs through her body, just from that.

She turns to find Louis in front of her, grinning like a cheshire cat, and looking significantly taller than she had this morning.

Nick leans back, taking a moment to take in all of Louis. She’s wearing a one piece black skater dress, skin tight over her torso, and it’s obvious that once again Louis isn’t wearing a bra. This time Nick doesn’t get flustered over looking at Louis, instead deliberately takes her time with it. The dress has a tank cut top, and flares out at the waist, short enough to show off her legs — and of course, the heels. The rose gold stilettos that had been a complete waste on Nick, but have Nick’s mouth almost watering looking at them on Louis.

Christ she’s getting all hot and bothered over _fucking shoes_.

Nick looks back up to Louis’ face to find the smirk she’s already growing familiar with, and she knows she’s been caught out — and fuck she wasn’t exactly being subtle about it anyway, but she can’t bring herself to mind. Nick shoots her one of her brightest grins, knows she’s showing off all her teeth in the way she usually gets self conscious about, but can’t find it in herself to mind, she is happy now, she wants to show it.

“Get a good look?” Louis leans in for Nick to hear, and she can smell smoke and alcohol on Louis’ breath, and something artificial as well that she can’t place.

Nick feels her face flush

“The shoes look good,” Nick says.

“Only the shoes?”

“No.”

“What else Nichothy?”

“Not my name,” Nick says, not

Louis’ fishing for compliments. Nick knows she is — and Nick can’t bring herself to care — she deserves them. “You’re looking gorgeous. Especially the shoes — guess someone had good taste.”

Louis throws her head back with a laugh that’s audible even over the music.

“Oi!” she says, slapping Nick on the arm.

Nick can’t help but grin.

* * *

Two cocktails later, Nick follows Louis out onto the dance floor. It’s crowded, but that just gives Nick the excuse she wants to crowd into Louis, pushing their bodies together in the mix of it. Nick’s a terrible dancer, but Louis wasn’t lying about her dancing moves earlier, and she isn’t much better. It makes no difference though, Nick can’t tear her eyes from Louis, from the ridiculous way she waves her hands around, to the way she throws her body around, not even in time with the music. Louis keeps knocking into her, and every time she does Nick brings her hands up to Louis’ hips to steady her. The next time it happens, Nick brings her hands up to Louis’ hips, and keeps them there.

Louis responds by throwing her arms around Nick’s shoulders, and pressing her body into Nick, lining them up until Nick can feel Louis’ breasts pressing against her own chest. Louis’ still shorter than her even with the shoes, and it makes Nick’s brain short a little, the way Louis looks up at her, the way she could drag her in and tuck Louis into her body. Nick wants to touch all of Louis, but she isn’t sure she’s allowed, so she keeps her hands locked on Louis’ hips, not moving, but firm enough that there’s no risk of her losing her hold. They’re not really dancing so much as grinding against each other, bodies tight together, and Nick can feel her body reacting. She wants to push Louis up against the nearest wall and slide her thigh between her legs, press into her until they can grind together properly, get some release for the pressure Nick can feel building between her legs.

It’s almost too much, and Nick feels like she’s burning up inside from it, when Louis leans back, eyes searching Nick’s in the middle of the heat of the dancefloor.

“I want to kiss you,” Louis says, and Nick isn’t sure she’d hear it if she wasn't watching Louis’ lips, if she couldn’t read the words clearer than she hears them.

It feels like Nick’s been waiting all night for this, even longer maybe, and she doesn’t hesitate, leaning down, to capture Louis’ lips in hers. Louis tastes like the cocktails they’ve drinking, cigarettes, and Nick can taste her lip gloss.

It’s soft, a brush of the lips and then Nick pulls away, licking her lips to capture the taste left there. Louis’ eyes dart down to her mouth, and then she’s bringing their lips back together, harder this time, and Nick responds in kind, giving as good as she gets. Nick feels like she shrinks down, all of her being concentrated in their lips pressed together, the kiss she’s wanted only a day but feels like longer.

It takes a moment for Nick to remember she’s more than just her lips, for her body to come back to her, Nick finally remembers she has hands too, that she can finally _touch_ Louis like she’s been wanting to. She skates her hands along Louis’ body, moving them from her hips down her back. She wishes she could slide her hands inside the dress, to touch Louis’ skin, it’s not the time or place for it, but just the thought of it is enough to have Nick wanting more, wanting to touch in all the ways she _can_ at least. She slides her hands further down instead, even lower to grip her arse, fingers digging in to grab at the muscle there.

Louis groans into her mouth, and Nick deepens the kiss, licking her way into Louis’ mouth. The taste of cocktails is stronger here, and Nick can’t get enough of it. Louis’ hands come up to grip at her neck and her hair, and Nick can’t focus on anything but the feel of Louis beneath her hands, and Louis hands on her, and the press of their bodies. They’ve abandoned all semblance of dancing now, practically grinding together on the dancefloor, and Nick really needs to stop this now. She can’t afford to be answering questions about why she was thrown out of a club on the radio come Monday.

It’s still hard to pull away, takes all of Nick’s self control just to break off the kiss and separate their bodies. Nick’s breath is coming heavy, and she’s pleased to see that she’s not the only one, that Louis looks just as flustered as she feels. She can feel her own arousal between her legs, and she can see Louis’ nipples through her dress, and Nick wants to touch them so much it almost hurts. She wants to slide her hand up Louis’ side and slip it beneath her dress to feel the nipple beneath her fingers, maybe find out if Louis’ likes a little pain with her pleasure — her mouth fills with saliva as she imagines getting her mouth on them.

_Fuck._

Louis leans forward again, closing the distance, but Nick brings her hand up to stop her progress, and Louis’ eyes pull together in confusion.

“Want to get out of here?” Nick leans in to ask, lips brushing against Louis’ ear. Louis’ neck is right in front of her and Nick can’t help but lean down, burying her head in Louis’ neck and inhaling, before sealing her lips to the skin and kissing.

She means to keep it light, just a brush, but Nick’s always been weak to temptation, whether it’s a crisp packet, another glass of wine, or a pretty girl, and she can’t resist taking it further. She opens her mouth, wetting up the skin and flicking her tongue out to taste. She sucks on the skin a little, and when she finally goes to pull away she can’t help but bite down. Louis arches with a moan, body moving like she’s trying to get away and get closer all at once, and that — that’s interesting.

“Shit yeah,” Louis gasps out, when Nick finally pulls away to look at her face again

Nick slides her hand down to take Louis’, but second guesses herself. Despite just making out in the middle of the dance floor, that seems more intimate somehow, and she stops shy of taking Louis’ hand. She grips her wrist instead, hand wrapping tight, and then she’s moving, pulling Louis along behind her as she heads to the exit.

Getting outside helps, away from the overwhelming crowd and heat from inside, and Nick sobers a little from the cold air.

Nick turns to face Louis. “You sure you want to come back to mine?”

“Nick,” Louis steps in closer to her, and Nick resists the urge to step away, or step closer. Louis overwhelms her, feels like she’s crowding her in every sense of the word, “take me back to yours.”

Nick’s face feels like it could almost crack from the grin on her face.

They share a smoke while Nick orders an uber. Louis steps in close to her side, wrapping her arms around Nick’s waist, and Nick drapes an arm over her shoulder to pull her even closer, sharing each other’s space and body heat too.

* * *

“Welcome to my humble abode,” Nick waves her hand around the living room, and Louis casts her gaze around. Nick fights the urge to fidget, feeling on display just from having Louis see her house. Usually when she brings people home she doesn’t have this feeling, but usually she doesn’t take the time to show them round her home. It feels different with Louis though, and Nick can’t put a finger on just _why_ that it is.

There’s the telltale clacking of nails on the floor, and then Pig is poking her nose around the corner of the couch.

“And this is Pig,” Nick says, bending down to give her a pat. “She’s the best dog in the world, even if it is past her bedtime.”

“Hello, Miss Pig,” Louis says in a high pitched voice, and Nick tries to shove down the affection she feels rising in her as she watches Louis kneels down to give Pig a pat. Pig flops on the ground, baring her stomach, and Louis doesn't hesitate, using both hands to rub her stomach vigorously.

“Do you want a drink?” Nick asks, moving towards the kitchen. “Don’t rile her up too much I’ll be putting her back to bed soon.”

“Sure,” Louis says, then her voice changes back to what Nick is already thinking of as _Louis’ Pig voice, “_ No party for you Miss Piggy. Mum wants to get some action.”

Nick gasps in horror when she walks back into the living room, glasses in one hand and one of Pig’s chew treats in the other. “Don’t you go telling my Pig such things.”

Nick hands a glass to Louis, and points her in the direction of the couch before settling Pig back on her bed with her chew and taking the seat beside her.

“Cheers,” she says, raising her glass, and Louis echoes her.

Nick takes a sip, then the glass is taken out of her hand, and Louis places both glasses on the table.

“Want to kiss you,” Louis says, kneeling on the couch beside her, and Nick wraps her hands around her and tugs, smiling when Louis follows direction and slides into her lap. She gets the feeling Louis isn’t always so ready to do as she’s instructed.

With Louis in her lap it’s Nick who has to lean up, and it’s almost dizzying, Louis’ face swimming close enough to make Nick go cross eyed. Nick brings her hands up to rest on Louis’ hips, getting a good grip, and Louis moves forward, either consciously or not, but it’s hot as fuck either way.

“What’s stopping you then?” Nick whispers, breath huffing out against her lips.

Louis is the one to close the distance, dropping her lips to meet Nick’s.

This time, Nick doesn’t hold herself back like she had at the club. There’s only Louis here, and apart from Pig —who should be distracted by her chew — there isn’t anyone here watching them. Louis grinds down into her lap, the skirt of her dress bunching up, and Nick can feel the heat and warmth from her, even through Nick’s shirt — _fuck_ why is she still wearing a shirt? Louis is the one to deepen the kiss, opening her mouth and licking her way into Nick’s mouth, and Nick lets her, loves the touch and feel of it. This time when Nick moves her hands to touch Louis she slides them under the skirt and brings her hands to Louis’ arse, gripping tight and massaging the flesh. She uses her grip to pull Louis in tighter, pressing Louis tight against her stomach, Louis breaks the kiss to gasp against her lips.

“Fuck,” Louis moans.

“I want to touch you so much,” Nick says, even though she is touching, her hands on Louis’ arse, but she wants more. Wants to pull Louis’ underwear out the way, wants to feel all of Louis, wants to lay Louis down on a bed and getting to investigate every inch of her, to map out the valleys of her body, find all the tattoos Nick has seen hints of.

“What's stopping you?” Louis asks, her voice full of laughter.

“Cheeky,” Nick says out loud, finally pulling down the elastic of Louis’ pants to feel the skin beneath her fingers. Louis moans, pulling away from Nick’s hands at first, before easing back into them, half thrusting against Nick’s stomach. And _fuck_ why are they still wearing clothes?

Louis seems to have the same idea and she's not gentle about it, pulling and yanking at the buttons on Nick’s shirt. It’s much rougher than Nick would ever usually be with her own clothes, but she can't find it in her to care. he lets Louis have at it. Louis unbuttons her shirt enough for Louis to slide it away and let it fall down Nick’s shoulders, Louis’ hands coming up to palm her covered breasts.

Nick loves it when someone pays attention to her tits, but she loves even more getting to play with someone else's. Her hands are still busy with Louis’ arse, and she can’t begin to consider relinquishing that hold yet, but Louis’ this tits are _right there_ , so she drops her head forward, mouthing at the small swell of her breast, even through her dress, getting the material all wet.

“Fuck,” Louis gasps, slow thrusts of her hips that aren’t doing anything except make Nick want for more. Nick can feel how wet she is, even through the material of her underwear, can smell it even. It’s going to her head, and her mouth drools at the thought that of getting a taste.

Nick moves one of her hands further down, following the elastic of her pants, fingers tracing along her arse, the join of her hips, and eventually they find what Nick’s looking for, teasing her fingers over the wetness she can feel soaking through Louis’ pants.

“Yes,” Louis gasps out, when Nick presses against it lightly. Louis’ hands drop away from Nick's breasts to come up to her shoulder, to tangle in Nick’s hair. She holds on to Nick as she moans deeply and grinds herself as much as she can against Nick's stomach. Nick pushes the material aside, sliding a finger into Louis.

Louis gasps, thrusting against her stomach, and pushing her chest into Nick's face, not that she's complaining. Nick finally relinquishes her hold on Louis’ arse to bring her free hand up to to touch Louis’ breast. Slipping her hand underneath the material from the side, groaning when she’s finally able to touch, skin on skin. She slips another finger inside Louis, but she barely has to move them at all, Louis is doing half the work for her, riding Nick's fingers with every roll of her hips. It's so heady, and Nick feels so turned on her heads spinning, the heat and pressure at her own core almost painful from how turned on she is.

She wants to get Louis off though, wants to watch her fall apart, feel her fall apart, and when Louis thrusts up Nick slips another finger inside her, releasing her hand from her breast to bring that down between them, seeking out Louis’ clit. It’s not easy, more than a little awkward with her arm angled between them, and her other wrist is starting to twinge from the position, but it’s so good, worth very bump and ache for the way Louis moans from it. Nick’s mouth seeks out Louis’ nipple she can see standing hard to attention through the thin material of her dress, teasing with a hint of teeth when she gets her mouth on it.

Louis groans, hips stuttering, and she clenches around Nick’s fingers as she buries her mouth in Nick's shoulder, the hold in Nick’s hair going so tight it's painful. Nick abandons her nipple, turning her face up to watch as Louis rides out the orgasm out on her fingers. Louis looks a treat, face flushed a red that bleeds down to her neck and continues to the high neckline of her dress. Her fringe is a mess, sweat damp hair sticking to her forehead, though Nick’s sure her own doesn’t look any better after Louis’ been at it.

She waits for Louis’ breathing to slow before she slides her fingers out, wiping her hand off on Louis’ thigh. Louis still has her head buried in the junction of Nick’s neck and shoulder, but Nick wants to kiss her, so she brings one hand to Louis’ hair, getting just enough of a hold to move Louis’ head how she wants to. Nick pulls her head back, and Louis groans deeply and goes with it. Nick files that little tidbit away for the future, before capturing Louis’ lips with her own. They kiss almost lazily, small kisses that Nick can’t stop smiling through, bumping against Louis’ lips almost clumsily, but no less enjoyable for it.

“Let’s take this to the bedroom yeah?” Nick asks, when they finally break from kissing.

“Please,” Louis breathes against her lips.

Louis slides off Nick’s lap, legs looking precarious, and Nick’s legs sting a little when she stands. She gives them a little shake out when they’re both standing, before taking Louis’ hand, interlacing their fingers this time, and leading her to the bedroom.

She’d not been expecting company, and her rooms a bit of a mess. The jumper she’d left on the bed has white hair a suspicious dog shaped imprint on it, but Nick doesn’t pay it any mind, shoving it to the ground without another thought and pulling the sheets down.

Nick’s shirt is still hanging half open and she makes quick work stripping it and her jeans off, throwing them in the same direction of the jumper. When she looks over to Louis she’s taking off her dress, arms pulling it over her head, as she stretches her body out. It makes Louis look divine, like a fucking portrait, and Nick would paint one, if she could, take in all of Louis, standing out like a beacon to Nick in the night. Louis’ is gorgeous, every part of her, and stripped almost naked Nick wants nothing more than to look — except perhaps, to touch.

She's still wearing the fucking heels.

Nick’s in front of her before she’s even got the dress off, tugging the last little bit over Louis’ head and dropping it to the floor. “Let me help,” she says, crowding Louis in. Nick pushes her to sit on the bed, falling to her knees between Louis’ legs.

“Fuck,” Louis says, looking down at her, and Nick feels the same, can’t help but think she feels so _fucking lucky_ to have this girl sitting on her own bed.

From where Nick is, her eyes are drawn to the lace of Louis’ pants. She can see the wetness there, thrills in the fact that _she_ caused that. It would be so easy to lean forward, to get a taste of Louis even through the material. Nick has some self control at least, even if it’s not a lot, so instead she turns her head, mouthing at the skin at the inside of Louis knees, hands searching for the zipper she knows rests at the back of the sandals.

 _Like Prince Charming_ she thinks, as she undoes the first zip. Then shakes her head at her herself — she’s losing it, she needs her brain to fucking _focus._ Her teachers always said she could be dedicated when she wanted something and _fuck,_ she wants this. She finishes with the sandals, tossing them away too, and then she finally, _finally_ allows herself to indulge, hands coming up to grip at Louis’ thighs, as she pushes her legs further apart, and places her mouth against the crotch of Louis’ pants. Lace rough against her tongue and scent of Louis heedy and mouthwatering.. _Prince Charming never did this_ she thinks, then promises herself never to think about Prince Charming again in the bedroom.

“Nick,” Louis gasps, leaning back on her arms, hips already shaking beneath Nick’s lips. Nick sucks on the material, tugging it into her mouth. It was meant to be just a taste, but Nick wants to taste it all, suck every drop of Louis’ fluid from her underwear, then rip them off and start again.

Her hands are so tight they must be gripping bruises into Louis’ skin. Nick might have sucked her right over the edge just like that, if it weren’t for the fact that Louis’ arms give out, flopping back against the bed.

Nick pulls off with a laugh, burying the noise into the join of Louis’ leg.

“Your mouth, honestly.”

It’s something Nick’s heard before, and she usually rolls her eyes at it. But tonight it only spurs her on — she wants to leave Louis with the memory of _her mouth_ , leave her wanting more. Nick already wants more and she hasn’t even orgasmed yet.

She tucks her fingers under the elastic of Louis’ underwear, and Louis lifts her hips obligingly, letting Nick slide the material from her body, dropping them on the ground too. She pushes Louis up the bed, slotting herself between her legs, and pressing her body down against Louis’ as she leans down to capture Louis’ lips.

Louis moans into her mouth, lips falling open, and Nick doesn’t hesitate to lick inside. Louis must be able to taste herself on Nick’s lips, and that only makes it hotter, makes Nick feel like she’s burning up from it. It’s only meant to be a brief kiss, but Louis has a way of drawing her in, making Nick lose herself in it. Louis’ hands come up to grip at Nick’s hips and arse, grasping and pulling Nick’s longer body against her. There’s something about that which makes it even hotter, the way Nick’s pinning Louis down, but Louis is welcoming her, pulling her even closer.

It’s a bit of an awkward shuffle, made more awkward by the way Nick can’t find it in herself to pull away from Louis’ mouth, but she manages to throw a leg over so she’s got one of Louis’ legs between her own. She presses her thigh in for a moment, and Louis moans into her mouth, pressing up against it to chase the pressure. Louis breaks the kiss to breathe as she grinds against Nick’s thigh, and Nick lets her for a moment, then draws her leg away. Louis groan of disappointment breaks into a moan when she replaces her leg with her hand, fingers seeking out Louis’ clit again.

For all the awkwardness of trying to balance on one arm, it’s a better angle this time. Nick rubs at her clit, enjoying the Louis’ sounds, before she moves her fingers down, sliding them into Louis. Louis groans again louder, and louder again when Nick presses her thumb against Louis’ clit.

Louis is so responsive in bed, and it’s intoxicating to Nick. She always wants to please, and having a gorgeous girl writhing under her, moaning in pleasure that Nick is causing is a better validation than Nick could ever have dreamt of. The way that when Nick glides her fingers in, Louis thrusts her hips to meet her; how when Nick presses her thumb down in circles over Louis’ clit, her hips shake in eager reply. And, fuck, the noises Louis’ makes; like when Nick drops her mouth to Louis’ delicious collar bone to bite at the skin, and Louis groans, loud and filthy, scrunching her eyes shut tight. Nick can’t look away, cataloguing every move Louis makes. She wants to learn them all, take the time to learn Louis’ body, all its ways.

Louis is so loud, gasping variations of _more_ and _harder_ and Nick isn’t sure what Louis means, but she does as she’s told, adding another finger and twisting them, while pressing her thumb down harder. Nick’s own body is almost forgotten in favour of watching Louis. She sees all the signs, but it still catches her off guard when Louis’ back arches, and she moans, the sound filling up Nick’s ears as she pulses around Nick’s fingers for the second time that night.

It’s just as hot to watch the second time round.

Nick’s been circling her hips against Louis’ thigh while she was focused on making Louis’ come. It’s not enough to get her off, but it’s been enough to give her some sort of relief for the pressure inside her. Louis’ orgasm is like a switch flicking in her brain, and Nick’s body reminds her that she’s so turned it’s almost painful.

Nick slides her fingers out from Louis, placing her hands on the mattress as she grinds down against Louis’ leg. Louis blinks lazily at her and seems to come back from her orgasm. Her lips are pink and wet and they curve in a wicked smile as she raises her thigh a little in response to Nick’s movements.

“Gonna rub off on me Nick?”

And suddenly Nick feels hot with it, feels like she could almost come from this alone. Her underwear is absolutely soaked through, and it makes the material feel filthy against her skin, softer and rougher all at once, catching in all the right places as she starts to find a rhythm.

Louis brings her hands up to Nick’s cheeks, holding her face still as she kisses her way into Nick’s mouth. It stifles her movements a little, and Nick loves kissing Louis, but she feels like she might combust if she doesn’t get off soon, so she takes it out a little on Louis’, biting down on her lower lip.

Louis only groans into it, and that doesn’t really surprise Nick after everything else.

“Can I go down on you?” Louis asks, when she breaks the kiss. There’s absolutely no world in which Nick is going to say no to that, her hips stilling even though she can feel her orgasm starting to build.

Louis doesn’t waste time, and Nick’s grateful for that at least. She rolls their bodies over with a surprising amount of strength for her size, leaning her weight on top of Nick to drop a swift kiss to her lips, before retreating back down the bed. She raises an eyebrow when her fingers hook into Nick’s underwear, and Nick feels a little embarrassed at how plain they are, no lace or frills, not when she’d put them on this morning expecting a normal day. Nick nods eagerly — too eagerly probably, but she wants it so much. Louis smirks as she peels the cotton material off of her, then pushes Nick’s legs open eagerly, and slides between them. Nick’s muscles protest a little from it, and she feels vulnerable all spread out in front of Louis, but she doesn’t say anything, just watches as Louis’ eyes rake over her, making her feel hot all over.

“I love doing this,” Louis says, lowering her face close enough for Nick to feel her breath ghost across her exposed skin. And Louis’ proclamation is great but Nick would love it if she fucking _did something._ She’s about to say so, when Louis finally leans down, to lick a stripe across her entrance, and Nick’s protests die on a moan.

Louis’ tongue finds her clit, and Louis laves over it, making Nick whimper. Nick twists her fingers into the sheets, just to give herself something to hold onto. She considers pushing them into Louis hair, messing up the fringe she cares so much about, but she doesn’t know if she’s allowed to, so she just holds onto sheets, fingers grasping so tight they hurt.

Louis seems to love it as much as she said, and she alternates between small licks against Nick’s clit, and thrusts of her tongue. It’s so amazing, and Nick rides the movements, legs jerking wildly. She’s caught between wanting to make more space, and wanting to clamp down on Louis, lock her wonderful mouth between her thighs. The fire deep in her stomach feels like it’s roaring, and Nick’s getting close, but as good as Louis’ tongue is, she knows she won’t come from that alone.

“Fingers,” Nick gasps out, because her body is getting so close, almost like she might come, but her body is a _liar_ and she knows it won’t happen until she has something inside her. “Please, I need them.”

Louis pulls away to give her a grin, face all wet and shiny, covered in _Nick_ and she has to throw her head back against the pillow, can’t look at Louis when she’s grinning like the cat that got the cream. She gasps out when Louis presses a finger into her, pushing inside in a slowly but firmly. She follows it quickly with another, and then her mouth is back on Nick, all her attention focused on Nick’s clit as she thrusts her finger deep inside her that her knuckles are brushing against her folds.

It’s like a race to the finish line then. Nick whimpers and moans, fingers gripping at sheets, and then at Louis’ fingers when Louis seeks out Nick’s hand to lace their fingers together. She gasps out, every fibre of her body feeling on fire, her legs come together, as much as they can anyway, trapping Louis between them, as she squeezes her hand. It feels like her whole body goes taught, the tension flashing through her, and then releasing in a burst of pleasure she’s sure she feels from her brain to her toes.

Louis pulls her face away as Nick’s orgasm rides out, then she pulls her fingers away too when the echoes finally fade.

When Nick looks down she sees her wipe her face against her forearm, wiping _Nick_ off. She shoots Nick a smile, but it falls flat, and she looks a little lost now, and Nick doesn’t know how to handle this. It’s not territory she’s travelled before, Nick doesn’t want this to be a one night stand, but she never seems to be all that good at keeping people around either.

All she knows is she wants.

She reaches down to tug Louis up beside her, rolling onto her side to face Louis, sliding a leg forward to rub against hers, and arm coming up to rest at her hip. She wants to kiss Louis again, wants it all again — and _Christ,_ she hopes she can have that.

Just needs to find a way to say it.

“Maybe,” Nick says, trying to make her voice sound confident and sure of herself, like her whole body doesn’t feel like she’s almost vibrating with anxiety over her words, “Maybe I should take you on a date to put those shoes to good use.”

“Dunno about that,” Louis says, and Nicks stomach drops. Of course Louis was only looking for a good time. Nick’s such a fucking _idiot_ to think that maybe it could be more. She rolls away from Louis onto her back to stare up at the ceiling, blinking her eyes and trying to ignore the sting of rejection.

“Not really much for fancy shoes if I’m being honest.” Louis follows up with, her light tone and soft smile at odds with the nerves Nick is feeling. “Not sure I see any point in wearing these ones again when they seem like they've already done their job.” Louis rolls over, half on top of Nick, and digs her pointy chin into Nick’s chest as she looks up at Nick. “Maybe you should see how I look in Birks.”

Nick could kiss her, but she’s out of reach, so she drops a kiss to her forehead instead, keeping the laugh inside at the look on Louis’ face.

“Sounds good,” Nick says, wrapping her arm tight around Louis, and tucking her up close. “Who would have thought those shoes would work out for me?” she asks, with a laugh.

“Lucky you, hey?”

“Lucky me.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!  
> This is my first foray into Girl Direction, I think I have never been so yikes about anything in my life (totally a lie but it feels like it)
> 
> Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed!
> 
> Comments and Kudos give me life  
> Find me at tumblr at [candybarrnerd](http://candybarrnerd.tumblr.com/)  
> Rebloggable tumblr post available [here](https://candybarrnerd.tumblr.com/post/184892520480/regular-touchby-icarusinflight-ship-nick)


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